Her Ruthless Warrior Rg Angel Vk -

They called him RG—just the letters, sharp and hollow, like the echo of a gunshot. To the underworld, he was a ghost with bloody knuckles. To her, he was the angel who forgot how to pray.

He was never meant to wear a halo.

She found him in the wreckage of a war he refused to name. Leather cracked, eyes dark as oil spills, and hands that had broken bones now trembling when they touched her cheek. “Don’t fix me,” he warned. She never tried. her ruthless warrior rg angel vk

But at night, when the city bled neon and regret, he’d rest his head in her lap, and she’d trace the scar running through his brow like a fallen star. “You’re not an angel,” she’d whisper.

And he did.

VK kept no throne. Only him.

“No,” he’d answer, voice raw as a wound. “I’m yours.” They called him RG—just the letters, sharp and

Her Ruthless Warrior